A Glass of Port
by HiroyasuYumi
Summary: In which a matured (older) Ciel lacks company, and forces a drink on his weary butler. This fic is rated M due to intense fucking which will be found in the next chapter. Enemies beware.


**A/N: To those who avidly search for anything new from me, I hate to disappoint. No, there are not ****_three _****new works from me. There are ****_two._**** So sorry. You see, this fic could be taken as both a one shot, ****_and _****a second chapter to "Warm Me Up". Again, many apologies. Regardless, do enjoy, and as always, ****_feel free to make suggestions on my next fictions. _****I would normally encourage suggestions for the chapter following this, but I'm afraid I already have this one planned out.**

**ALSO. You will notice a change in Ciel's demeanor. That is because he is much older in this fic. Well, not MUCH. But older indeed.**

**DISCLAIMER: Yes, it is true. I do not own the characters of, nor was I the creator of Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji.**

* * *

"Young Master." A deep sigh.

"Yes, Sebastian?" A quirked brow.

"I think it is time for your bath, sir."

A dark chuckle resounded through the room. "Hm. Is that so."

Sebastian sighed softly under his breath. He adjusted his tie and cleared his throat. The young master had clearly not aged like a fine whine. If anything, he'd gotten more and more ornery with each passing year. Now, at a rearing 19 years old, and with one week until his twentieth birthday, he wouldn't be enduring that party sans kicking and screaming.

But we digress. Back to the matters at hand.

Ciel brushed aside a lock of his midnight navy hair. "Get me a tumbler of port and I'll consider." He settled into his wing-backed chair, propping his long legs on the desk, crossed at the ankles. He steepled his hands at his waist.

Sebastian clicked open his pocket watch with a gloved hand— not that this was necessary. One could tell the time of day simply by peering through the slight cracks in the blackout curtains.

Ciel cocked an impatient brow. "Sebastian? Don't leave me waiting. I have little patience this morning."

The butler rolled his eyes. "Yes, and liquor will only make you... feistier, if you will."

Ciel sat up, swinging his legs over the desk and leaning forward most threateningly. He would have his ambrosia. He would see to it.

Sebastian nodded slightly and went to the side board, pouring and amber colored liquor from the crystal decanter.

"Thank you," Ciel grumbled. "Go on and pour some for yourself."

The demon now rolled his eyes openly, but only because his back was turned. He sighed yet again as he put a few cubes into the squat glass. "No, thank you, Young Master. I find the smell to be foul and the taste to be acrid." A slight untruth, for it was for these two reasons that Sebastian rather _enjoyed_ the drink.

Ciel harrumphed. "Sebastian."

"Yes?"

"Have a drink."

The demon quirked a suspicious brow. He peered over his shoulder to find the other stalking closer to him, slowly, slowly.

"It's a bit early for me, sir." As a matter of fact, it was ten o'clock, though with the lighting in the study, one would assume ten at night.

"Don't make me say it," Ciel warned, almost pleadingly. The young man breathed down his neck. He was quite tall, the butler observed. Two nimble hands threaded into Sebastian's hair from behind. He tensed.

"Whatever do you mean, sir? Are you going to order me to drink with you?" His hair stood on end at the warmth, and his skin broke into gooseflesh under his sleeves as he felt ptal soft lips brush over his ear.

"If it should come to that, then yes. I'll order you."

"Need I remind you, young master, that it is only ten o'clock in the morning? Perhaps later tonight, maybe?"

Ciel growled softly, his voice low and smooth. "I did not mean _tonight._ I want it _now._ And you'll join me."

"Truly sir, I'm quite alright without it." Sebastian shuddered at the touch of the other's tongue under his ear. This was certainly proving to be an interesting morning. The demon decided to continue to resist, as long as his young master continued to persist.

"Pour... yourself... a _drink,_" the blue eyed boy enticed.

"That will not be necessary."

"I'm going to say it," he warned again.

_Oh. An order?_ Sebastian smirked, choosing to remain silent. Ciel's hands crept down his butler's chest, adroitly undoing the buttons of his tailcoat before grazing over his nether regions.

"...Please?" he whispered, pushing his hands a little rougher against the other.

Sebastian clenched his teeth against the vocalization of need rising through his chest.

"Yes... my lord," he managed to grind out.

The demon struggled to steady his hands enough to pour the second glass, and even as he did so, the young bastard rubbing himself against him proceeded to loosen his belt, unbutton his trousers, and unzip them halfway.

"Take a swig," Ciel continued, stepping back to shrug off the waistcoat and tie he'd been wearing since the previous night, and to admire his handy work.

Sebastian continued to clean up the decanter and sideboard, an easy smirk upon his thin lips. His hair was disheveled from his master's ministrations, and it now hung in his face, much to his annoyance.

"Please, Sebastian, have a sip, take a seat." Ciel lounged against his desk, leaning on an arm as he watched the other.

The butler picked up the two tumblers and set one down next to the earl's hand. He sat down primly in one of the two seats facing the desk.

Ciel prowled around his study, undoing his shirt buttons, taking off his vest, leaving a trail of clothing items. He kicked his shoes off and tugged off his socks and pants before he stood behind Sebastian's chair in his undergarments.

Sebastian raised the glass to his lips indifferently, sipping it gently.

Ciel was impatient. He reached in front of the butler and struck the bottom of the glass. "Oh, blast," he sighed in mock pity. The port spilled down the front of the butler's crisply pressed shirt.

"Oh, dear," Sebastian mumbled. "That port was expensive, and now I've gone and wasted it."

"Sod the port! Look at your shirt. Off with it. Can't be comfortable." The blue eyed boy slid his hands over Sebastian's pectorals, popping each button loose, on at at time, until it fell open, revealing a muscled abdomen and prominent hip bones. The demon's skin seared at every curious touch from his master. He stopped the other with a gloved hand.

"Young master," he sighed, "Is this all necessary? If you want something, you merely need ask for it, sir."

Ciel clapped his hands condescendingly. "Oh, good. We can stop this ridiculousness."

"We go through this every time, my lord," Sebastian groaned disdainfully.

Ciel's eyes narrowed, his jaw set. "Shut up. I order you to remove your clothes."

"Yes, my lord," he assented, but the other's irritation continued to build. The butler rose and carefully loosened his tie, pulling it slowly from around his neck. He was grateful for the interaction. He'd been tense with sexual need, but of course, could not very well tell his master _that. _

Ciel walked around the chair and perched on the desk, moistening his lips. A thin sheen of sweat had settled over his chest. He chewed his lower

lip, turning it red, and brushed his hair behind his ear as he removed his eye patch. He was straining against his undershorts.

Sebastian began to fold his tie neatly, then pulled off his gloves, one finger at a time.

Ciel growled frustratedly. Honestly, could that bastard not see that he was ready to hump the goddamned desk? His erection throbbed against the fabric of his shorts and he sucked in a hissing breath. "Hurry _up, _Sebastian! Stop folding your clothes. Take them off!" He grabbed his grass and drank the alcohol in large gulps, the liquid sliding out of the corner of his mouth, and he spat an ice cube back into his hand, his chest heaving with each breath. He shoved his hand down his shorts, rubbing it frantically over his stiff shaft. His knees weakened and a string of profanities fell from his lips, his voice growing hoarse.

Sebastian watched this with polite interest, although his cock throbbed appreciatively in his pants. At last his torso was completely bare. He sat down and untied his shoes, pulling off his socks. His muscles rippled as he stood.

"I'm afraid I don't have any undershorts on, sir."

"WHY THE HELL NOT?"

"Why does this upset you?"

Ciel stood, and with a grunt, yanked down Sebastian's pants. He took the demon's girth into his mouth. He sighed against him and began to suck on him, running his tongue along the underside of his shaft, which he knew to be sensitive on the other.

Sebastian moaned quietly, his hips rolling forward, and he held Ciel's head against him.

Ciel abruptly removed his mouth, wiping it off with the back of his hand.

"Is there a problem, young master?" Sebastian's voice was almost as calm and collected as usual, but his breath came through his nose hotly.

"I know that sound," Ciel growled. "You're going to cum."

"And?" he asked, unimpressed.

"I order you not to. You can't until I tell you otherwise." Ciel's chest heaved, nipples taut, stomach clenching.

"Yes, my lord," the demon relinquished. He didn't mention his master's nearness to completion, himself. Ciel loved to be a hypocrite.

Ciel stood and kissed Sebastian sloppily. The demon wondered why his master always waited until he was full to bursting with need before they did things like this. After so long an intermission between their trysts, it always ended in a mess.

He kissed back roughly. It seemed he was equally to blame.

"S-Sebastian," the younger breathed against his lips. "Please..." He ground against the other's unrelenting body.

Sebastian opened his eyes. He'd hardly realized he'd closed them.

"Where?" He huffed urgently. His erection throbbed sporadically.

"I-In the chair!" Ciel cried hoarsely, sweaty hair sticking to his face and neck.

Sebastian kicked off his trousers and sat down roughly.

"No!" the earl roared, a bead of sweat trickling between his shoulder blades. "Not _that_ chair! _My _chair!"

The butler stood and strode to the high-backed chair behind the other's desk. He sat down with legs spread and waited. Ciel fought his way out of his boxers, stumbling and nearly falling as he yanked them off of his ankle, then made his way behind the desk.

**He braced his hands on the handles of his locked desk drawers and pushed his bare bottom towards his butler.**


End file.
